The beast inside roars, “Please! Help me! Or else!”

Its howls run deep, echoes through me in pain   

Dark of night, light of day, it stalks in stealth

There is one way its hunger can be slain

To the pantry I run, open it up

Cheez-Its, Annie’s, Pringles: chip heaps galore

“Substance!” it screams. Abort snacks, could a cup

Of juice maybe drown this impatient boor?

Cheesy, onion, barbeque melts my mouth

The voice gurgles but with sweet juice I hush

Its sound, with its taste of apple I douse

The protesting beast’s complaints turn to mush

What pleasing feelings! My tummy is stocked!

Wait...is that pain I sense? Seems I am...clogged!